


Even Robots Need Blankets

by starrywrite



Series: Robot AU [1]
Category: Video Blogging & YouTube RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Cancer, Character Death, M/M, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Romance, Robot AU, Robots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-27
Updated: 2014-06-27
Packaged: 2018-02-06 11:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1856605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrywrite/pseuds/starrywrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU in which Dan’s best friend just happens to be a semi-defective robot who speaks in the third person.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Even Robots Need Blankets

**Author's Note:**

> i blame tumblr text posts and Samantha for this fic being written okay.
> 
> this is a sort of futuristic AU where robots are the new iphones, but Dan is around his current age - just to clear up any confusion! tw: death (but trust me okay, this is like 85% fluffy).
> 
> towards the second half of the fic (which takes place a year later than the first half) there's a couple of time jumps throughout that part, ie: everything that happens isn't all happening in the same month or week, just to clear up any confusion!! 
> 
> i’ve never written an AU like this so im actually rly nervous about posting this bc i’m afraid it might suck bUT i digress im pretty pleased with the final outcome (despite the fact that i think its a bit rushed cries) and i hope you are too!!! :) enjoy pls!!!

The clock strikes midnight, and Dan’s twenty-three today. And he’s celebrating with a bottle of wine in his hand because he’s twenty-three and he’s alone and he doesn’t want to think about how alone he is. 

It’s not that he has no one whatsoever; he’s got his family and a handful of friends and his co-workers, and he hates that they don’t feel like enough sometimes. Because his family all live too far away, and his friends all got someone or something that’s more important to them than he is, and his co-workers are great during the day but at the end of their shifts they all have something to go home to, and Dan has… nothing. He has nothing and he has no one.

For the most part, Dan’s used to being alone. He’s grown accustomed to the silence that surrounds his apartment, the way his voice echoes when he talks to himself because if he doesn’t, then who’s going to talk to him? He’s gotten used to waking up and going to sleep in an empty bed that’s too big for just one person, the way the cold sheets feel under his arms as he stretches out to feel the emptiness that surrounds him. He buries himself in TV shows and books to keep his mind occupied with the lives of others so he can almost convince himself that he’s got all these friends; but every show has a final season and every book has a last chapter and when it comes down to it, Dan is still alone. 

Some days it just hits him harder than most. Days like today when he craves love and attention and affection, and he ends up with absolutely nothing. Days like today when he wishes he could roll over and see someone else lying in his bed next to him. Days like today when he wishes after his shift at work he’ll be coming home to something or someone. Days like today are the worst kind of days.

Dan just wants to make it through this day in one piece, but right now he feels like he’s already been broken into a million shattered chunks and he doesn’t think he can be fixed at this point. He takes a long sip from the remaining contents of his bottle, and then lies down because if it was up to him, he’d sleep the rest of his birthday away. 

* * *

A loud knock on his front door awakes him the next morning - or afternoon technically, and Dan groans as he rolls over, so he’s lying on his back. It takes him a moment to realize he’s lying on his living room floor and he tries to remember exactly how he ended up here, but everything from last night is a bit fuzzy and his head is pounding as hard as whoever’s knocking on his door. “Coming!” he rasps out, and forces himself up to his feet. He sneaks off to his bedroom quickly to grab a pair of sweatpants before answering his door to see his mate Chris standing there with a mysterious blanket covered something on a utility cart. “Hey,” Dan says slowly.

“Happy birthday!” Chris says happily, then invites himself in, pushing the cart inside with him and Dan stumbles backwards making sure he doesn’t get run over. 

“Thanks… um, what is this?” Dan asks, confusion evident in his tone. 

“Your birthday present!” Chris exclaims, sounding a bit like a gameshow host, and he reaches out for the blanket covering whatever Dan’s gift is, but Dan reaches out, grabbing him by the wrist.

“Tell me,” he starts. “You didn’t get me what I think you got me.”

“I don’t know why you’re so against the idea,” Chris tells him. “You could use some companionship.”

“I have you.” Dan points out, heading towards the kitchen to make a pot of coffee because frankly, he needs some coffee now more than ever Chris is intensifying his hangover at the moment. 

“Yes, and upon realizing that I’m all you have, I decided that you could use some companionship.” Chris waits until Dan’s got a mug of coffee in his hand before he tells him, “Just give it a chance, okay? You’re gonna love it.” Dan mumbles something incoherently as he buries his face in his coffee mug and Chris resumes his game show persona as he says, “Say hello to your new robot!” 

Chris yanks the blanket off dramatically to reveal a six foot tall robot seated on the cart. Chris helps it to its feet, and its legs wobble like a newborn horse’s, his joints creaking loudly as he stands. There’s a block in his chest that’s mostly black, spare for the small sliver of blinking red - his battery is dangerously low. Dan’s seen many, many robots in his day and he’s never seen one with its battery barely charged; it’s like someone had just left this one to die. 

Dan frowns a little, sad because this robot looks… well, like a sad excuse for a robot honestly. “Are you sure this is new?” he asks, bemused at Chris’ choice of words when it’s clear that this robot is the complete opposite. 

“So he’s a little… worn.” Chris waves his hand dismissively before moving the robot over to Dan’s couch and helping him sit up, but the bot simply falls over almost immediately. Dan and Chris both wince. “See! He’s great!” Chris insists, ignoring the look Dan’s giving him as he plugs the bot up to charge.

Dan looks at the bot and cocks an eyebrow. “Why are his eyes blue?” he asks, turning to Chris.

“Uh… what do you mean?” Chris asks him, not meeting Dan’s eyes and looking over the cyborg, lying on Dan’s couch, as if he was noticing him for the first time. His eyes stare ahead, not really looking at anything, but they glow a bright cerulean color that neither Dan nor Chris have even seen before.

“His eyes.” Dan reiterates. “They’re blue. My question is why aren’t they red like every other robot I’ve ever seen before?”

“PJ’s eyes are green.” Chris points out, referring to his own bot (and “life partner” as Dan refers to him as, because let’s be real here, PJ is the most important thing in Chris’ life and they’ve been inseparable ever since Chris got him and he has no plans to change that). 

“PJ is a first generation robot, and they don’t even make them like him anymore.” Dan reminds him. “Every other generation of robots made after PJ’s generation has the most obnoxious red eyes I’ve ever see, except for that robot lying on my couch at the moment.” the bot blinks as Dan finally properly acknowledges him, and for a second, Dan feels kind of bad because he’s sure he sounds like a dick right now. “No offence, your eyes are lovely.” he tells the bot, who just blinks again. He turns his attention back to Chris. “So again I ask… why?” 

The older boy rubs the back of his neck. “Well,” he starts, and Dan knows this isn’t going to be good. “Okay, so maybe he’s a bit… obsolete.”

Dan turns to look at Chris, arms crossed across his chest. “You got me an _obsolete_ robot for my _birthday_.”

“He’s not completely obsolete okay!” Chris exclaims, albeit defensively because Dan’s giving him a look that says, _you’re the worst friend ever_ , and he’s not okay; he’s just broke. But it’s the thought that counts. “That was just bad wording on my part; he works fine, he’s just... he’s been out of use for a few years and he was just collecting dust, and I felt bad for him.” Chris reaches out and fondly runs his fingers along the top of the bot’s head. “He needs to charge for a while longer before he can do anything but the lady says he's just fine!"

Dan rolls his eyes and looks at the bot, his blue eyes glowing brightly in Dan’s dim apartment and mumbles, “You got me a fucking defective robot for my birthday.”

Chris thwacks Dan in the back of his head and tells him, “Be thankful you even got a present you twat!” and Dan rolls his eyes again, so Chris thwacks him again. “You need him anyways,” Chris continues. “You’re so lonely it’s making _me_ sad.”

“I’m not lonely.” Dan quips back immediately, but Chris is right; he is lonely. Day after day, he wakes up alone and comes home to an empty house at night. He doesn’t have a lot of people in his life who he considers himself close to and for the most part, it kind of sucks but it’s nothing he isn’t used to. Dan’s been alone for a long time now. 

“Whatever.” Chris says, because sometimes there’s just not arguing with Dan. “Just give him a chance yeah? Who knows, he might end up being the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

“I thought you already claimed that position in my life.” Dan jokes, and Chris smiles at him. “Thank you, by the way.” he adds, because he didn’t properly thank Chris for his gift and truth be told, Chris has given him worse presents than an obsolete robot. 

“You’re still a twat.” Chris tells him, but gives him a hug and then tells him that PJ should be finished charging by now, so they say their goodbyes and Dan is left alone with his robot. 

He eyes it warily; he’s never had a robot before, and even though nearly everyone he knows has one, he doesn’t quite know how they work. Honestly, he’s a bit afraid that he’s going to break the poor thing - he looks wrecked. It’s pretty obvious that whoever cared for him before obviously didn’t… care about him at all. He looks like he was just pulled out of a scrap heap; he’s rustic and run down and Dan’s surprised he even turned on in the first place. There needs to be a sign hung around his neck that reads “handle with care” and it hurts Dan’s heart to look at him. Because the more he looks at him, the more he realizes that he can see himself in this robot. Because sometimes Dan feels like people look at him as if he’s got a sign around his neck that reads “handle with care”.

“So,” Dan takes a seat on his coffee table in front of the bot and asks, “What are you called?” The bot’s jaw creaks as he opens his mouth to try and speak, and Dan winces; he’s in dire need of fixing up, that much is obvious. “Never mind, yeah?” Dan stops him quickly, because his hinges are rusted and Dan would rather he didn’t put himself through any pain for his sake. “We’ll take after you’ve charged okay?” The bot blinks, and Dan takes that as an okay. He needs more than a charge to get him going again, but Dan decides he’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it. 

He leans forward looks at the back of the bot’s head and spots his serial number. “Well,” he says. “It looks like you’re called PH0027IL.” Dan’s eyebrows knit together. “That’s a mouthful” he says and the bot blinks in agreement. “How about we just call you, Phil? Do you like that?” 

The bot forces his mouth open once again, the sound of rusting bolts and squeaking hinges unpleasant to Dan’s ears but before he can stop him, the bot says, “Y… yes… mas...ter.” 

Dan shakes his head. “None of that master stuff, okay?” he tells him. “I’m not your master; I’m your… I’m your friend.” he decides because he doesn’t want to be somebody’s master and he doesn't like the idea of being thought of as somebody’s master, the idea that someone has to be submissive to him when he’s no one important in the first place; the whole idea just makes him feel a bit weird. “Just call me Dan, okay?”

“D… Da...n.” Phil says slowly, and Dan’s lips curl into a small smile. Maybe Chris had the right idea after all. He reaches for a blanket and pulls it over Phil, covering him before he leaves him to complete his charge. 

* * *

It takes a few hours for Phil to recharge but when he is, the block in his chest is full and glowing green for the first time in a very long time, and Phil doesn’t even know how to react. For the first time, he has _energy_ , he can move without fear of shutting down, he can think, he can do all the things he’s supposed to do but haven’t been able to. 

He unplugs himself from his charger, and takes it upon himself to look around Dan’s apartment. From what he’s gathered, Dan lives here alone; maybe that’s why his eyes are so sad. 

Even though it was just a few hours ago, Phil won’t forget the look in Dan’s eyes when he first saw him; it was like he was missing something. He almost looked lifeless, and even though he smiled and laughed, the dead look in his eyes didn’t go away. Phil wants to make it go away. 

In midst of his exploring, Phil finds Dan’s bedroom and he remembers that not too long ago, he came out to inform Phil that he was going to sleep. The door is slightly ajar and PHil peeks his head inside. His eyes light up the room, but Dan is undisturbed, lying there as he sleeps soundly. Phil watches him for a second; Dan’s different that the other people who have owned him. He hasn’t yelled at him, or called him terrible names. The fact that he let him charge is a huge difference in itself, and Phil thinks that he’s going to be happy living with Dan. 

* * * 

The next day, Dan decides to take Phil to a few shops with him, mostly because he has no idea what a robot even needs because he’s never owned one and he figures that even though Phil may be a bit defective, he’d at least know what he needs. “C’mon, we’re going shopping.” he tells him after Phil’s noticed he’s awake. He doesn’t talk much; Dan figures it’s because he’s shy or something, or maybe he’s nervous. Dan can tell he wasn’t treated properly before, but that isn’t going to be the case this time around. Dan may not have wanted a robot in the first place, but he has one now and not only that, but he’s Phil’s second chance at being around humans that won’t treat him like shit. And Dan figures he deserves a second chance at happiness, everyone does.

Maybe even he does. 

“Shopping?” Phil asks, and he’s at Dan’s side in only a matter of seconds. 

“Yeah. You need some things, because I am definitely not equipped to have a robot,” Dan tells him. “So I figured you could come with me and help me pick out what you need.”

“Dan needs things?” Phil asks him. 

“No, Dan - I don’t need anything,” Dan tells him. “By the way, this whole third person thing - is there any way to reverse that function or…?” Phil falls silent for a moment, and Dan asks him, “What’s wrong?”

“Phil annoys Dan.” is all he says, and Dan feels like he’s been punched in the stomach.

“Oh, no, no, no, no!” he says quickly. “You don’t annoy me! Honest, just - forget I said anything, okay? You don’t annoy me, I promise.” Phil extends his arm towards Dan, joints creaking as he does so, and sticks his hand, forcing his pinky finger to stick out towards Dan.

The brunette boy stares. “You want me to pinky-promise you?” he asks.

Phil nods. “To pinky swear, or make a pinky promise, is the entwining of the little fingers of two people to signify that a promise has been made.” Phil explains to him.

Dan raises an eyebrow “Thank you dictionary.com.” he tells him with a slight eye roll, as he wraps his baby finger around Phil’s metallic phalange; it’s cold, as Dan expects, but at the same time, not in the same way Dan had expected it. He’s cold, but also… warm.

“Dictionary.com.” Phil says. “The world's most popular dictionary and thesaurus with definitions, synonyms, antonyms, idioms, word origins, quotes, audio pronunciations, example sentences…”

“Thank you, Phil.” Dan cuts in, raising his voice slightly so Phil can pick up on the change in tone of the conversation because as much as Dan appreciates Phil’s extensive knowledge of everything and anything, he doesn’t need Phil defining everything for him. At least not today. 

“You are welcome, Dan.” Phil tells him, and the bot’s eyes close in a way that Dan swears he’s trying to smile at him. And that in itself makes Dan smile as well. 

“Okay, let’s go Phil.” the two exit Dan’s apartment, and today, Dan feels different. He isn’t sure why at first because he’s been out shopping way too many times before, but then he realizes that today is the first time he’s not going out alone. 

He’s used to the solitude, used to the silence, used to the thoughts inside of his mind having to take the place of actual human conversation but now he’s come to the conclusion that he doesn’t have to get used to that anymore. Because he’s got Phil. And now he’s not alone. 

Dan’s thoughts are interrupted when he sees Phil kneeling by someone’s yard, his hand grazing the flowers growing amongst the cracks in the sidewalk. “Um, Phil?”

“Dandelions.” Phil says. “Look Dan; dandelions.” he points out the little yellow flowers as if this is the first time he’s ever seen them before - and Dan realizes that might actually be true.

“I see the dandelions, Phil.” he says, kneeling down by Phil’s side. Honestly, he feels a little silly doing this, especially as Phil points out each and every dandelion to him, some of them yellow, some of them white and puffy, talking about them excitedly until Dan finally coaxes him up to his feet so they can get walking again. Then Phil starts pointing out the clouds; some of them are shaped like animals, some of them are big and fluffy, some are thin and small. And they stop and stare at the clouds for a few minutes in the same way that they stopped and looked at the flowers. 

And although he’s only known Phil for barely a day, it was right then and there that Dan realizes that Phil sees the world differently than he does. Phil’s so appreciative of all of the little things, making sure to go out of his way to acknowledge all of the things he finds pretty or just whatever catches his attention for longer than two seconds. At first, Dan found if kind of annoying and maybe a little embarrassing to be kneeling down in front of every flower bed that caught Phil’s eyes, but then he saw that the little things like this made Phil happy - or at least, whatever was close enough in that case because robots didn’t technically feel anything, but regardless; the little things like this make Phil happy. And if something makes Phil happy, why shouldn’t he take the time to appreciate and acknowledge whatever is making him happy? Maybe Dan should start doing that too; maybe he’d start viewing the world a little bit differently than he does now.

It takes them twice as long as they normally would to get to the store, and when they finally do, they didn’t buy a single thing they needed, but Dan would be lying if he said that today wasn’t one of the best days he’s had in a long time. 

* * *

It takes a few days for Phil to open up more to Dan and not act so stiff and afraid, but when it finally does happen, Dan’s very grateful. If Phil’s going to stick around, he wants him to enjoy the time the two of them are going to spend together. Besides, Dan would be lying if he said he wasn’t enjoying it (of course, he couldn’t tell Chris that, because he would never hear the end of “I told you so”). Overall, he’s really glad he has Phil. 

...Okay, for the most part he’s glad he has Phil. Mornings could go a bit smoother for the two of them.

Dan groans loudly as Phil shakes him awake, bringing him out of his dream and forcing him to face reality. “Whaaaaaat!” he rolls over, burying his face into his pillow. “What is it, Phil?”

“It’s been eight hours.” Phil tells him. “Dan is fully charged now. Time to play!”

Dan looks at the clock; it’s eleven PM, and he’s sure he went to bed around three in the morning, so Phil’s right, he _has_ been asleep for eight hours - but he went to bed at three in the morning and he’s still so fucking exhausted. “Just give me one more hour, okay Phil?” 

“Phil wants to play.” the bot tells him, and promptly reaches for his blankets, pulling them off of him.

“Hey!” Dan grabs his blankets back to try and cover himself.

“Phil misses Dan.” he says, pulling on the blankets while Dan holds on tightly and this is completely childish and stupid - but Dan kind of likes it. A lot. “Dan wakes up now; Dan is fully charged!”

“Five more minutes.” Dan insists, pulling his blanket back from Phil and yanking it over his head as he lies back down.

“It’s been eight hours!” Dan’s sure that Phil’s metallic voice is all but whining right now and his lips twitch into a small smile because it’s really cute; but he presses his face further into his pillows so Phil doesn’t see. “Dan is fully charged now!”

“Dan is hella fucking tired right now!” Dan insists, rolling over onto his back to look at Phil.

The bot pauses. “Hella.” he finally says. “Originated from the streets of San Francisco in the Hunters Point neighborhood. It is commonly used in the place of “really” or “very” when describing something.”

“Thank you dictionary.com.” Dan sighs, pushing his blankets back because he might as well drag himself out of bed now that Phil’s awake.

“Dictionary.com. The world’s most popular dictionary-”

“Phil!” Dan interrupts. “Okay, okay, I’m awake now - are you happy?” 

“Happy.” Dan braces himself for another definition, but instead he just says, “Phil is happy.” and Dan has to pause for a moment, because Phil is a robot and robots aren’t capable of feeling… or so he thought. But he looks into Phil’s bright blue eyes, and he can see the smile in his eyes, and holy shit, Dan’s robot is capable of feeling. Maybe it’s because he’s not like other robots. Maybe Phil is defective or obsolete or whatever, but Dan’s starting to think that’s not such a bad thing anymore. “Dan is happy?” Phil asks him.

Dan blinks. Is he happy? For a long time now, he wasn’t even sure what happy felt like anymore, but now that he’s got Phil… “Yeah,” he says. “Dan is happy.” 

* * *

It doesn’t take long for Phil to become the most important person in Dan’s life - and he isn’t even a person. But Dan doesn’t care, because Phil is all that matters to him; Phil makes him happy in a way that no one else does, he makes him laugh and smile and he makes him… feel. Because for the longest time, Dan forgot how to _feel_ ; he forgot what it was like to care about something, like really care about something, or what it was like to love someone with his whole heart. And then Phil came around, and he suddenly feels like the Grinch - like his heart grew two sizes the day he met Phil. 

* * *

Dan can’t believe that it’s almost been a year since he got Phil and he can’t even deny that this has been one of the best - if not the best - year of his life. Ever since Phil came into his life, he’s been the happiest he’s been in such a long time; it was almost like before Phil, something was missing, and now the hole in his life was filled. Now he has someone who loves him and cares for him just as much as he loves and cares for them, and he never thought something like that would happen, but now that he’s got it, he doesn’t want to lose it.

His birthday’s in a few weeks, but honestly, he cares more about that fact that it’ll technically be his and Phil’s one year anniversary. Phil, however, is very intrigued by Dan’s upcoming birthday. 

“What do you do on birthdays?” Phil asks curiously. 

Dan shrugs. “I don’t know, different people do different things,” he replies. “Usually people throw a party though.”

“Party.” Phil repeats, as if he’s processing the idea of someone throwing him a party. 

“Yeah, your friends and family all get together to…” Dan pauses because it comes to his mind that he isn’t quite sure how to explain what one does at a birthday party - probably because he hasn’t had a proper party in years and his memory is fuzzy. “Have fun.” he finally says. “And there’s cake and presents.”

“Is Dan having a party?” Phil asks him. 

Dan swallows the sudden lump forming in his throat. “Um, probably not.” he tells him. “I haven’t had a birthday party in a long time; I’m not expecting one any time soon.” Phil makes a noise, sounding almost like a wounded puppy, but before he can ask Dan why Dan won’t be having a birthday party, he asks him, “How come you don’t already know all of this? I thought you knew everything.”

“Phil was not birthed, so Phil does not have a birthday.” the robot tells him. “Phil doesn’t know much about birthdays.”

Dan pauses. It doesn’t make sense to him, because technically Phil’s right - he wasn’t born, he was made, but he should at least have a made-day, right? Dan’s seen people treat their robots differently, from servants to actual best friends, and ever since Dan decided that Phil’s his best friend, he figures he’s going to start treating him like a best friend. And that includes celebrating his best friend’s birthday. “Then today is your birthday.” he declares.

Phil blinks. “Phil’s birthday?” he asks.

Dan smiles, “Happy birthday, Phil.” he clears his throat and sings a sort of off-key rendition of ‘happy birthday’ but Phil claps for him as if it’s the best singing he’s ever heard and this is probably the happiest he’s seen Phil in days. 

Dan kind of wishes he thought of this sooner rather than later, because he could’ve at least scrounged up a present for Phil, but when he sees how happy Phil is, he starts to think that it doesn’t matter if he has a present for him or not; he gave him a birthday, and that’s all that matters to Phil right now. And if that’s the case, that’s all that matters to him. 

* * *

He isn’t sure when he first started feeling poorly, but it doesn’t take him long to realize that he isn’t getting any better. It begins to get to the point where he doesn’t think he can get out of bed because he’s just so tired and achy, especially his back - god, his back has never hurt so much in his life, and he spends nearly twenty-three hours hunched over his laptop - and he doesn’t know why. Phil isn’t oblivious either; he knows Dan isn’t okay, and he’s by his side 24/7 - which Dan really appreciates, but he finds it a bit unnecessary because he’s sure he just has a cold, or something. 

Still. He figures he better go to the doctor just in case. 

“I’ll be back later, Phil,” Dan tells his bot one morning as he makes his way through the house and towards the front door. “I have to go to the doctor’s.”

Phil’s by his side almost immediately. “Dan is sick?” he asks, concerned.

Dan’s lips twitch into another one of those against his will smiles, and he just can’t help it because Phil is too darn adorable for his own good. “I’m sure it’s nothing, okay? I’ll be back soon, okay?” 

“Phil will be waiting.” the bot tells him, and Dan just sighs a little because no one’s ever cared for him more than Phil does, and he realizes that this isn’t the first time he’s found himself wishing Phil was real.

* * *

Dan’s doctor appointment is uneventful for the most part, but his doctor tells him that he’s going to have to come back in a few days for his test results - because apparently his doctor is convinced that this is a bigger problem than the cold. And it terrifies Dan to think that something could be wrong with him, and the entire time he was sitting on the cold hospital bed, he was wishing that Phil was with him.

He doesn’t tell Phil, what his doctor said. He figures it’d make more sense to wait, no use in getting him all worked up when there could be nothing wrong at all. But Phil wasn’t stupid, and he knew there was a reason why Dan was acting so tense and jittery for the next few days. And Phil wanted to confront him about it, but he didn’t necessarily know how; there was no manual on this, no code to download so he knew how to have serious talks with his master - scratch that, his friend (because Dan didn’t like to be called “master”) - so he did the only thing he knew how to do.

On the eve of Dan’s doctor appointment (unknowingly to Phil), before Dan steps out of his apartment, Phil stops him and he wraps his long, metal arms around Dan in an attempt to hug him. Phil remembers reading that hugging is a form of nonverbal communication as well as having health benefits. Phil figures that might be what Dan needs right now.

Dan goes still and tense under Phil’s embrace, shivering as the bot’s cold metal brushes against his skin and it takes him a moment to process what’s going on because he actually can’t remember the last time he had received a hug. And he has to swallow the lump in his throat as he brings his arms up to wrap them around Phil, and he whispers to him, “Thank you. I needed this.”

“Dan is okay,” Phil says, and Dan can’t tell if he’s asking him or just making a statement, but Dan just nods and he repeats to him, “Dan is okay.”

* * *

He’s sitting on a bench outside of the hospital, and tears are rolling down his cheeks, and Dan can’t muster up the strength to hail down a cab to get home because he can’t stop crying and he just doesn’t know what he’s going to do.

He’s going to die - well probably. The odds might be with him, but they could also be against him, and he doesn’t know what he’s going to do. Fifty-fifty, his doctor had said. There’s a fifty percent chance that he could die. 

He tries to remember what his doctor had called it… schwannoma neurofibrosarcoma. God, he couldn’t even properly pronounce that, nevertheless spell it; but apparently it had meant that he has a tumor in his spine. That definitely explained the back pain he had experiencing - and he thought it all had to do with his shity mattress. He wishes it had to do with his shitty mattress.

He’s going to start chemo soon, but everything is just happening so fast. One day, he thought he had a cold, now he has cancer, next thing he knows, he’s going to be undergoing chemotherapy, and he hasn’t even told Phil yet.

Phil. God, he can’t believe that Phil was the first person (for lack of a better term) to come to his mind with this; he has a family to tell and Chris, but all he can think of right now is Phil and how he wants Phil with him right now and how he wants another one of Phil’s cold but in a weird way warm hugs. He presses his palms to his eyes to try and keep the tears at bay, but now he can’t stop thinking of Phil, and he can’t stop thinking about how he has cancer, and now he has to tell Phil he has cancer and a sob escapes his lips because why is this happening? Everything was starting to go so well for him, why was it getting all fucked up now? 

It takes him nearly an hour to stop crying, and by the time he gets back home, he’s completely drained, void of energy and wishing he was void of emotion because there’s still anxiety sitting tight in his chest at the prospect of telling Phil that he has cancer. He doesn’t know how he’s going to do this; it’s going to break Phil’s… well, Phil doesn’t technically have a heart because he’s all nuts and bolts, but it would upset him (since apparently Phil is capable of feelings - which Dan still hasn’t really wrapped his mind around yet) and the last thing Dan wants to do is make Phil upset. 

He hears happy beeping as he enters his house (who knew beeping could be happy; then again, Phil is probably the happiest robot Dan’s ever met) and Phil makes his way over to him. “Dan is okay?” he asks immediately. 

Dan has to swallow back another lump in his throat and he exhales slowly before he answers, “Yeah, Phil. I’m fine.” Phil beeps happily again, and it just makes Dan want to cry even more. “Uh, can - can we talk about something Phil?”

“Dan is anxious.” Phil notes, and Dan swears under his breath because Phil is too good at reading body language. 

“Maybe a little.” Dan says, rubbing the back of his neck - then stopping himself because it’s only going to make it more obvious to Phil that something isn’t right. “Um, do you like living here Phil?” he asks him.

“Yes.” Phil says immediately.

“But - but it’s so small here, and crowded,” Dan tells him. “And I’m barely home most of the time -”

“Phil likes living with Dan.” Phil interrupts. “Dan is nice to Phil, Dan makes Phil feel safe.”

 _‘God,’_ Dan almost breaks down crying again, because he doesn’t think he can do this. “Maybe,” he chews on the inside of his cheek. “Maybe you’d be happier staying with Chris. You know, he’s got a robot too, and I bet you guys would-”

“Phil wants to stay with Dan.” Phil interrupts. “Phil loves Dan.

Dan’s chest feels tight, and he finds that he can’t meet Phil’s eyes right now. “You are a piece of machinery and I cannot love a machine,” he tells him, forcing the words out. “Just like a machine cannot love me.”

Phil blinks and says again, “Phil loves Dan.”

“Phil-” 

“And,” Phil continues, his voice stabbing through Dan’s heart as he says, “Dan loves Phil?”

Dan sighs, defeated, because Phil’s right; Phil is always right. Blinking back tears he forces a smile and says, “Yeah... Dan loves Phil.”

* * *

Dan doesn’t tell Phil he’s sick. He can’t, it would hurt him too much, and Dan doesn’t want to be responsible for Phil being unhappy. Except he’s sure Phil figured it out by now, because Phil it too smart for his own good. Dan likes that about him though; he likes how smart Phil is, how he’s always willing to tell him anything and everything he wants to know. 

He likes Phil. He loves Phil. 

Dan’s never loved someone the way he’s loved Phil before, and he isn't sure if he’s in love with him or if it’s just a strong friendship love, but he doesn’t care because they don’t need a label, they just need each other. And when he thinks about the possibility of losing Phil, his chest goes tight and he doesn’t know what to do - so he doesn’t do anything. They don’t talk about Dan being sick, they just talk about anything but. Call it denial, but Dan likes it that way. He likes not being treated like he’s terminal, he likes being treated like… Dan. And even though Phil probably knows the truth by now, he still treats Dan like Dan.

Phil tells him how happy he is that he got him as a master - as a friend, a best friend. He tells Dan how special he thinks he is, how nice and smart and pretty and great he is. He tells Dan that he loves him. He tells him this stuff day in and day out, and he hopes Dan doesn’t get tired of hearing it because he definitely doesn’t get tired of saying it. 

Dan cries sometimes when Phil says this stuff, but he swears to Phil that they’re happy tears, not sad ones. Sometimes he apologizes to Phil, and Phil isn’t sure what he’s apologizing for, but Phil tells him that he doesn’t have to be sorry, and he gives Dan an awkward root-human hug, but it doesn’t feel awkward anymore. It feels like home.

When Phil is with Dan, he feels at home. And Dan tells him he feels the same way. 

* * *

Phil isn’t stupid. He knows something’s wrong with Dan. 

He’s been programmed with an ability to just _know_ things; definitions, directions, recipes, how tos, if you ask why, he’ll have an answer - basically, he’s got Google in his head (probably literally, but then again, Phil isn’t too sure who did program him) - so it doesn’t take him long for him to realize that something is wrong with Dan.

Phil doesn’t understand people. He doesn’t understand why they don’t answer questions with the truth, he doesn’t understand why they avoid answering a question you ask them, he doesn’t understand why they can’t just _tell_ you things, why they leave you wondering and guessing and left to come up with your own conclusions… he doesn’t understand why they use long wood sticks instead of forks and knives (thought, Phil did learn that the proper term for those sticks were “chopsticks”). And he doesn’t understand why Dan is keeping something from him right now; they’re friends, _best_ friends, and Dan loves him and Phil loves Dan. So why can’t Dan just tell him what’s wrong?

Dan’s favorite thing to say to Phil is, ‘I’m fine” and Phil learned after the twelfth time he’s said it that it’s a lie. And after the thirty-first Dan says, “I’m fine” Phil figures out what’s really wrong with him.

He isn’t sure why it took him so long to piece everything together - first Dan was sick, then he went to the doctor’s, then he got his test results from the doctor’s, and ever since then, he’s been on edge and tense and practically near tears ever since. But Phil thinks he’s got it figured out: Dan’s sick, but not just the cold or the flu or an infection - he’s really sick.

Phil doesn’t know what kind of sick Dan is, but he knows it has to be pretty serious, especially if he’s been escaping to the doctor’s as often as he’s been (not that Dan told him that; again, Phil figured that out on his own). He wonders if it’s cancer; he knows humans get cancer sometimes. He wonders if Dan’s going to die; he knows humans die sometimes. 

Phil doesn’t tell Dan what he knows, though he suspects that Dan has figured out that Phil figured it out already. They don’t talk about it though, they talk about anything but the fact that Dan is sick. Phil wants to bring it up, but he doesn’t because he doesn’t want to make Dan unhappy by talking about it. So he just follows suit; he doesn’t talk about it.

Instead, he tells Dan how happy he is that he got him as a master - as a friend, a best friend. He tells Dan how special he thinks he is, how nice and smart and pretty and great he is. He tells Dan that he loves him. He tells him this stuff day in and day out, and he hopes Dan doesn’t get tired of hearing it because he definitely doesn’t get tired of saying it. 

Dan cries sometimes when Phil says this stuff, but he swears to Phil that they’re happy tears, not sad ones. Sometimes he apologizes to Phil, and Phil isn’t sure what he’s apologizing for, but Phil tells him that he doesn’t have to be sorry, and he gives Dan an awkward root-human hug, but it doesn’t feel awkward anymore. It feels like home.

When Phil is with Dan, he feels at home. And Dan tells him he feels the same way. 

* * *

The clock strikes midnight, and Dan’s twenty-four today. And he’s celebrating with a bottle of wine in his hand and Phil by his side, and for the first time in forever, he doesn’t feel alone. 

Yes, he has a bit more than no one whatsoever; he’s got his family and a handful of friends and his co-workers, and he still hates that they don’t feel like enough sometimes. Because his family all live too far away, and his friends all got someone or something that’s more important to them than he is, and his co-workers are great during the day but at the end of their shifts they all have something to go home to, and for the first time, so does Dan. 

He had gotten used to being alone. He had grown accustomed to the silence that surrounds his apartment, the way his voice echoes when he talks to himself because if he doesn’t, then who’s going to talk to him? He’s gotten used to waking up and going to sleep in an empty bed that’s too big for just one person, the way the cold sheets feel under his arms as he stretches out to feel the emptiness that surrounds him. 

And now there’s something new he’s gotten used to; he’s gotten used to coming home to see Phil waiting for him, eager to listen to him talk about his day, no matter how uneventful it was. He’s gotten used to talking to someone beside himself; he’s gotten used to the way Phil beeps happily whenever he talks, the way those beeps echo and bounce off his walls. He’s gotten used to waking up and going to sleep with Phil lying by his side, the way Phil’s cold body feels under his arms as he stretches out to make sure that Phil is still there - and he always is.

Dan isn’t alone anymore. 

And now he doesn’t want to _just_ make it through the days, he doesn’t feel like he’s been broken into a million shattered chunks because Phil took those shattered chunks and he put him back together, and now Dan feels whole again. 

* * * 

Human’s don’t die in the same way that robots do, but at the same time, they kind of do.

When a robot dies, it’s usually because their battery is too low. Phil had come close to dying multiple times; his last owners only kept him alive enough when they needed something. So he had become familiar with that feeling like you can’t keep going anymore, like no matter what you do or how hard you try that you just know you’re going to shut down. It’s a slow process, but a painless one. Kind of like going into sleep mode. Or being powered off, the only difference is, you don’t get powered back on. 

That’s how Dan died; like he went into sleep mode. Phil was by his side when it happened, Dan was lying in his bed for fourteen hours, which is almost twice as long as his usual charging time, and if Phil could cry, he probably would be crying but Dan isn’t crying. In fact, he’s smiling. Phil doesn’t understand why but he’s smiling, and he whispers to Phil that he loves him, that he’s the best person ever, that he’s so glad he met him, and that he was there for him when no one else was, and that he loves him. He says “I love you” five times, and Phil says it back each time.

Phil remembers the look in Dan’s eyes when he first met him; it was like he was missing something. He almost looked lifeless, and even though he smiled and laughed, the dead look in his eyes didn’t go away. 

He didn’t look like that when he died.

Phil thought before that he would never forget the look in Dan’s eyes when they first met, but he’s mistaken; he’s never going to forget the look in Dan’s eyes as he was dying, because at that moment, Phil swore his eyes were never more full of life. 

He made it go away. Phil made the sadness go away.


End file.
